


No Fun for Effie Means No Fun for Haymitch

by EllanaSan



Series: Tumblr Prompts [9]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Gossip, mention Seneca Crane/Effie, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 20:31:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1239826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllanaSan/pseuds/EllanaSan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Original Prompt : perhaps a prompt where at a party or something Effie ends up falling over and hurting herself and she complains so much that Haymitch ends up getting sick of her voice and takes her home idk make of that what you will</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Fun for Effie Means No Fun for Haymitch

The party was raging on around them, music pounding through speakers and the constant buzzing of the crowd making it hard to hear anything, a fact for which Haymitch was particularly grateful given that hostility was radiating from Effie in waves. He didn’t understand what changed between the elevator where she had actually been talking his ear off with her chatter about how _amazing_ the victory party was going to be that year because it had been planned by some famous party planner and the ten ridiculous minutes he had left her side to grab both of them glasses of punch. It was the last time he ever bothered with courtesy, she was sipping her drink, glaring at everyone over the rim of her glass.

“Okay.” he said, when he couldn’t take her silent disapprobation anymore. “What did I do? I’m not even drunk, yet.” And he wasn’t going to be with that wimpy thing they called punch… Worst of it was, it was the strongest liquor they offered at the bar. Her famous party planner obviously didn’t know victors very well. “You know what, save it, I don’t want to hear it. I will be over there with Chaff.”

He nodded at District Eleven mentor who was waving his lump in the air to catch his attention. As usual, Finnick was sitting with him, two or three Capitol women squeezed on either side of him on the couch.

“I’m coming with you.”

He glanced at her, surprised, but only shrugged. They usually split up at that kind of parties... They had a very different set of friends. Chaff’s greeting was friendly enough but Haymitch didn’t miss his displeasure at seeing his escort which, of course, soon turned to mirth and outright laughter when she stumbled. Finnick, who Haymitch suspected, had never grown out of his boyish crush for her, bolted to his feet and caught her before she could fall flat on her face.

“Are you alright, Effie?” The young man was more concerned that he ought to be, Haymitch decided. Her pride was probably hurt most than anything, really.

The Capitol women were having a blast, giggling and exchanging comments that couldn’t be anything but mean.

“Careful, there, love…” Chaff sneered. “If heels are not you thing, you could always go barefoot.”

“Easy, Chaff.” Haymitch told him quietly, already tired of having to play the referee between the two of them. He took the armchair beside Chaff’s, wondering why they found it necessary to add so many couches, chairs and loveseats… Was it a victory or a tea party?, he wondered. Effie perched on his armrest.

“Is this party awful or what?” Chaff sighed, once Finnick was back to his Capitol sandwich of giggling pink wigs.

“Brutus is having a blast.” Haymitch noticed, watching the victor who was currently laughing with half a dozen people, obviously enjoying District Two’s third win in a row. “What’s that, though?” He waved his glass of punch. “Where’s the good stuff?”

Chaff downed his own drink sadly. “Apparently, tonight that’s the good stuff. New policy that won’t last a year if anyone has anything to say about it…”

“This party is absolutely disappointing.” Effie agreed, to Haymitch’s upmost shock. She had raved and raved for days about the victory party… “Nothing to redeem it.”

Chaff eyebrows shot up. “Am I dreaming or is Effie Trinket actually agreeing with me?”

“Don’t start, Chaff.” She chided him. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Well, you’re certainly _in_ a mood.” Haymitch said, wondering if it would be considered improper to put a hand on her thigh so she would stop jerking her leg and trying to figure out how much he cared about _being_ improper. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

“She seems her usually charming aggravating self to me…” Chaff joked.

Haymitch decided to keep his hand to himself, if the glare she was sending Chaff’s way was any indication, Effie was ready for murder.

“A little bird told me Effie’s mood has to do with a _secret_.” Finnick stated, after sending his suitors away with a smile and a kiss. It was properly ridiculous.

“Don’t be preposterous, Finnick, it doesn’t suit you.” Effie snapped. “I don’t have any secret.” She crossed her legs, making her dress riding up a few inches and Haymitch’s eyes trailed a little longer than strictly necessary on the smooth creamy skin. “This party is boring. Absolutely boring, don’t you think so, Haymitch?”

He hummed softly, still contemplating how soft her skin looked and if… He wasn’t actually prepared for the little slap behind the head. “ _Ow_! Are you _mad_?” It hurt.

She pulled her skirt down pointedly. “You are a pig.”

Chaff laughed so loud Haymitch was half afraid he would sprain something.

Finnick clucked his tongue at Haymitch mockingly. “What would Seneca Crane think of that I wonder?”

Effie froze, Chaff stopped laughing and Haymitch frowned.

“What does Crane have to do with any of this?” he asked.

Chaff looked down, refusing to meet his eyes, and Finnick only smile like he knew all the secrets in the universe – which was irritating.

“ _This_ ,” Effie snapped, clearly upset. “is a _vile_ rumor that _your_ ” she pointed an accusing finger at Chaff despite the fact that it was absolutely rude which told Haymitch all he needed to know, really “escort got going around.”

Chaff shrugged. “What do you want me to do? You don’t see me being all friendly with _my_ escort, do you?” he glance pointedly at Haymitch but Haymitch chose not to understand. “I don’t care who your boyfriend is or that it’s the gossip of the evening, deal with your own mess.”

“What’s going on here, exactly?” He hated when everyone knew something but him.

“Effie is or is not going out with Seneca Crane and everyone is talking about it.” Finnick summed up neatly for him. “It’s threatening to overshadow Brutus’ self-congratulatory party.”

Haymitch paused and then finished his glass of punch. “I need more booze for this.” he mumbled before looking up at Effie. “ _Crane_? Really?”

“This is a _lie_.” Effie hissed. “What is so difficult to understand in that sentence? Viola did it to spite me because I’m more popular than she is so she’s trying to say that I’m getting… a special treatment. How can you even ask me… Oh, never mind. This is the worst party _ever_.”

She got up and marched towards the bar. He watched her order another glass from afar, confused about what had just taken place right then.

Chaff whistled, apparently finding great delights in the situation. “There’s a bright side. If she’s truly shagging Crane you may very well win next year.”

“You heard her, she said she wasn’t.” He didn’t know why he was so defensive of her but… she was leaning against the bar, looking lost, and he didn’t’ like seeing her like that. “Your escort is the problem. She’s a bitch. Always been.”

“Aren’t them all?” Chaff sniggered.

“Let’s not go there.” Finnick warned but, as usual, he got ignored.

“At least mine isn’t following me like a lovesick puppy.” Chaff scoffed. “A very _annoying_ , very chatty, lovesick puppy.”

“Don’t talk about her like that.” Haymitch growled.

“Why? Because you’re so…”

“Chaff.” Finnick cut in firmly, shaking his head. “Don’t.”

“Yeah, Chaff.” Haymitch sneered, getting to his feet. “ _Don’t_.”

Effie didn’t look particularly surprised to see him coming to her. “I hate what they did this year.” she began without even leaving him a chance to speak. “The colors are wrong and…” He tuned off the list of everything that didn’t meet her standards, barely listening to how she twisted her ankle earlier and how it hurt like hell now – her fault for wearing those overly high heels – but he did notice a certain number of people were looking at her, most of them obviously gossiping, and how uncomfortable it made her feel.

“Okay, okay!” he exclaimed at last, when he couldn’t bear her nagging any longer. “Let’s go home. We can have our own pity party, there.” At least, in the penthouse, there was enough alcohol to help him deal with the incessant chatter.

He pretended not to notice how relieved she look when they finally left or her slight limp, making sure she knew how insufferable she was for making him give up a perfectly nice party with his friends. He wouldn’t want her to think he cared, after all.

  


End file.
